


Scars of Sakaar (Loki x Reader)

by SilentWanderlust



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Basically it's a rousing Sakaar party, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 20:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentWanderlust/pseuds/SilentWanderlust
Summary: After you go missing on a mission with Thor, Loki finds you years later on the junk planet, Sakaar. He will do anything to liberate you from the arena and makes a bargain with the Grandmaster for your freedom.





	Scars of Sakaar (Loki x Reader)

“Where is she?” Loki stormed the halls of Asgard, boots clicking against the tile as he shoved guards unlucky enough to be in his flight path. “I swear if she’s- Thor - where is she?” The scream echoed down the hall and the remaining guards flinched.

Thor rested a hand on Sif’s shoulder. She braced her palms against her knees, heaving shallow breaths as blood trickled down her temple. Her sword scraped against the floor with every movement, screeching in the open hall.

“Loki,” She started, a crisp pain wrinkling her eyes. “We-”

“I didn’t ask  _you_ ,” Loki shoved a finger in Sif’s face. She glared up at him, mouth hanging open in fury. The dripping blood slipped over her lips and fell to the floor. “Thor, she was supposed to be with you.  _Where is she_?” Each word came more clipped than the last. A potent fear built under the anger, spreading through Loki like a parasite.

“Let Sif speak,” Thor pushed Loki from her.

Loki turned his wired gaze to Sif. “Well?”

She pushed her sword from the hilt at her side, letting it crash to the ground. With the weight free, she rose, rolling her shoulders to stretch her spine. Blood clumped in her hair, sending spikes of tendrils a dozen directions.

“We lost her,” Sif held Loki’s gaze.

“You lost her?” Loki enunciated the words in disbelief. “So not only do you not know whether she’s alive or dead, you have not the slightest idea of where her body may be?”

“She may not be dead,” Thor held out a hand to Loki and was readily rejected.

“She shouldn’t be dead because she was supposed to be beside you,” Loki’s hands rotated between twitching and curling painfully tight. “Did you forget about her? Did you do this intentionally?”

“We ran into a snag and I took her,” Sif swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to lose her. I can’t tell you what happened because I don’t know myself. Y/N was there and then she was gone.”

“Stop speaking,” Loki ground his teeth. “Who’s looking for her?”

“Everyone, Brother,” Thor reached again to Loki. “We’ll find her.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Loki hissed on his way out the hall. The guards stumbled out of the way, some falling as Loki stormed past them. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Loki would find you no matter the cost. He didn’t need anyone else to do it for him.

* * *

**6 Years Later:**

The stadium boomed with the music of ravenous screams. Rabid onlookers howled their excitement as you stepped into the arena. The dirt crunched under you with the weight of your morningstars in each hand, creating clouds of ethereal dust around you.

Your piecemeal armor, locked tight to every inch of you, clanked as you moved. The armory on Sakaar was severely lacking the airiness of Asgardian dressings. A dozen colors represented on your chest plate and they caught the florescent lights of the stadium like a rainbow, but did little in actually protecting you. At least you gave them a show. In the end, that’s what the Grandmaster wanted.

The disc on your neck buzzed with electricity and you looked up to the box, a scowl ripping through your face as the Grandmaster taunted you. The room was alight with the warmth of non-synthetic lighting. As you looked to the skies, you saw a flash of something that stalled your pounding heart. Dark hair and a haughty disposition.

But it was impossible.

With a shiver, you whipped your two morningstars over your head, goading whoever your opponent would be.

Though you’d yet to lose a fight, the twinkling of adrenaline still split through your veins, preparing your subconscious for battle. But along with the adrenaline came a new emotion you hadn’t experienced in years. The sudden, guttural feeling that something had gone awry in the universe. It wasn’t a conscious feeling, but rather something lingering in the cosmos you couldn’t explain. Something chilling deep inside you, making you shiver.

Shaking away your moment of uncertainty, you smiled as the doors slid open on the other side of the stadium, revealing your opponent.

A ghoulish creature, boasting slick, blue skin bellowed his warning to you. Though bipedal, the ghoul had eight gangly arms, four on either side of its body. Each waved a different direction in an attempt at intimidation.

You laughed at his battle cry which elated the thousands of spectators.

“I’ve fought creatures five times your size and thrice as horrifying,” You screamed over the sound of the crowd. Your voice projected through the stadium like a bouncing echo.

He responded in a language you didn’t recognize, but consisted of throaty growls and screams. Your only indication it was language at all was the uncanny inflections mimicking taunting.

With no more pretense, he barrelled towards you. You stood in place, spinning the morningstars on either side of you like wings. When he was nearly on you, you rolled the side and smashed your weapon into his fleshy leg. Dark blue blood erupted from the dozen holes your morningstar created.

You went flying with him as he lost his balance and shrieked his distaste. You flipped and flew through the air, your morningstar dislodging from his leg. Tumbling over his head, you circled his neck with your arms, weapons wrapping like an ‘x’ around his head. Pulling back hard, you snapped his neck back. Not hard enough to kill him, but enough to piss him off. You had to give the spectators a show first and foremost.

He jumped in the air, bringing blood and dirt with him, and dropped like rocks on his back with a stomach-churning crunch. Your legs caught under his torso and you screamed. The points of your weapon streaked across his face at the impact. He howled as the skin of his eyes ripped from his body with the path of the morningstar.

“Oops,” You pulled a dagger from your side and slammed it between his chest and chin, hitting the center of his throat. Blood flew from the wound like a fountain. The creature gargled and flailed his numerous arms until his fell sideways, unmoving.

Fumbling to get out from under him, you pushed against his shoulder as the crowd hollered and waved signs with your name. Some electric and blinking, others crudely made from scraps of metal.

You pulled your weapons from the dead creature after you stood. They dripped with blood but you waved them over your head regardless, accepting the rain of noxious blue.

“She’s done it again!” The Grandmaster’s voice boomed. “Don’t we just love her so much? Isn’t she a treat?”

The crowd agreed with waving arms and raucous laughter.

You spun to look to the Grandmaster in his box, but instead of the eclectic psychopath, you found something else entirely. It was a man, slightly older than you’d seen him last, hands pressed against the glass with horror on his face, staring directly at you.

_Loki._

* * *

Loki nearly lost footing as he hurried to the Grandmaster’s side after your turn in the area. Victory or no, Loki would ensure you never laid foot in the death pit again. Still relatively new to the planet, he’d never seen you in the arena and he felt ill at the fact it could have been happening for years without his knowledge.

“Grandmaster,” Loki held his drink high to avoid contact with others. It sloshed over his armor as his moved. “I’ve got an excellent proposition you’ll want to pay close attention to.”

“Ooh,” The Grandmaster spun a line of rings on his finger. “I love a proposition at this height above the arena. Don’t you? They just seem more  _serious_.”

Loki swallowed back a biting comment directed towards the madman. A group formed around them. Things from all the realms donned bright colors and gaudy headpieces, while others wore almost nothing at all. Onlookers were interested in the Grandmaster’s object of fascination more than anything. Something that caught his eye, even momentarily, was certainly worth their time as well.

“Of course,” Loki rested a hand on the Grandmaster’s shoulder. “My proposition is Y/N.”

“Y/N?” The Grandmaster tapped a finger on his lip, considering Loki. “The champion? Yes, I like her I think.”

“As do I,” Loki raised a brow at his immediate luck. Keeping his eyes trained on the Grandmaster, Loki forced an imploring gaze, a false modesty accompanied with wishful gaze.

“Well you can’t have her,” The Grandmaster dropped into a fluffy chair, legs flying out in front of him before crossing them. The chair moved him through the room and Loki hurried after, feeling undignified as he weaved between creatures trying to get a glimpse or touch from the Grandmaster. “She’s mine.”

That was unacceptable and verifiably incorrect. You were Loki’s and no one else’s. Loki himself could barely keep you in check, how could the Grandmaster?

“You see, Grandmaster,” Loki reached for the chair but it jerked away, lips flatlining as he spoke. “Y/N, and I are old friends.”

“Lots of lifeforms know each other,” The Grandmaster snapped at something to bring him a drink. A slugesque creature slinked over with a burning golden glass, leaving murky residue in his path. Loki stepped over the goo with a scowl. “I just made a new friend - last wee - this week. Doesn’t mean I just let them do their own thing, though.”

“I understand Grandmaster,” Loki put up his hands deferentially. “I should be clearer.” A smile threatened his lips as the chair spun to face him. “Y/N and I were a bit more than friends.”

“So she was - was sleeping with you,” The Grandmaster tsked. “Funny. I understand why. She has good taste. Are we done here?”

“Grandmaster,” Loki grit his teeth, sensing his audience dissipating quickly. With this Grandmaster’s declaration of disinterest, a small group turned away, reigniting the music and conversation from before. “She’s my fiance and was almost more until she disappeared years ago.”

The fluffy chair stopped moving and the Grandmaster spun, mouth open in surprise. Topaz looked on from a corner with an disinterested stare. The room fell silent along with the Grandmaster as they hung on his every word. Those who lost interest had theirs reignitied with Loki’s matrimonial declaration.

One onlooker yelled to throw Loki in the competition and see how he fared. Loki bit his tongue, nearly saying he’d kill every creature unfortunate enough to land against him in the area. But then he would need to sleep in a circular, derelict cage. His bed was far superior.

“I understand. Now that’s an interesting proposition,” The Grandmaster waggled a wrinkly finger. “Bring her to me. I really did need something else to do today. Let’s get married!”

* * *

Someone pounded on your door that night. The moons of Sakaar were low and the dregs of morning crested over the piles of junk littering the planet. You nursed a cut on your leg as the the banging continued. There was no need to guess, you know who stood on the other side of the door.

“Y/N,” Loki called. “What are you waiting for? Open the door.  _Open the door!_ ”

You placed the blood-stained cloth on the bedside table. With an uneven breath, you ambled to the door, holding your hand over the entry button. You dragged your fingers over it before finally pressing it with a shock of fear; real fear unlike you’d felt since the day you landed on Sakaar.

Your mouth fell open and shoulders slumped when you saw him. The fear slipped into uncertainty and you stumbled back to look at him in his entirety. Loki’s hair hung longer than when you’d seen him last. He wore an opulent yellow cape over striking green and black armor. Clearly he wasn’t fighting in the stadium as you were.

“How?” You grazed your fingers down his arm, feeling the cold armor under your touch. It was foreign and comfortable simultaneously.

“I thought you were dead,” Loki pulled you to him, caging you against his chest. “You never returned -”  _To me_  lingered on his lips but weren’t spoken. Six years of pain and restless abandonment simmered in every grizzly word.

“I didn’t mean to land here,” You touched his waist carefully, uncertain in your affection for him. There was no need for such tenderness on Sakaar. You’d barely touched anybody you didn’t intent to kill in the arena over the past few years. You’d lost track of exactly how long it had been, partly by choice. “And I haven’t yet found a way to leave.”

“Why are you fighting?”

“Why aren’t you?” You said, smacking his chest. “Who the hell made you the Grandmaster’s bitch?”

“I am not the Grandmaster’s bitch,” Loki scowled at the thought.

“Really?” You scowled. “Then why am I fighting and you aren’t?”

“I’ve made friends with the man,” Loki dragged a finger through a loose tendril of hair hanging over your shoulder. His finger grazed your neck as he twirled it around his thumb. Your skin burned bright at the contact.

“You don’t have friends,” You reached for his hand tangled in your hair, wrapping your fingers in his. Bolts of electricity traveled your spine as your skin met. A familiar and energizing sensation. “What’s really going on?”

“You’ve caught me,” Loki again entwined his fingers in your hair, pulling your neck up towards him. “I have no friends, but I have even less desire to fight in the contest. So I do what I must.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky,” You whispered as his lips grazed yours, placing a kiss on the side of your mouth.

“Yes,” Loki kissed slowly up your jaw towards your ear. “You’re formidable in the competition, but I never want to see you there again.”

Loki bit at your earlobe and your gasped at the feeling of his teeth against your skin. His hair fell into your eyes as he breathed against the soft skin below your ear, blocking your site but enhancing the sensation of his touch.

“How will you convince the Grandmaster?” You wrapped your arms at his waist, sinking into him as he pushed you towards the bed. Your feet tangled in his as you fell back onto your uncomfortable sheets.

“He wouldn’t stand for my long-lost fiancee fighting in the competition like an animal while I watched.” Loki hoisted you up farther onto the bed before shoving you back down under him.

“I’m not your fiancee,” You gasped as he nipped your neck to silence you. “And that sounds like something the Grandmaster would love. What a spectacle that would be.”

“You think so little of me?” Loki grabbed your neck and kissed you hard. Liquor lingered on his lips, cold and tart; a stark reminder of your uneven status on Sakaar. Loki got liquor and you got infected gashes. “I’ve already gotten you out of this cage.”

“On what condition?”

“Well, about that,” Loki rested on his forearms, hovering over you. “All you need to do is marry me.”

“No,” You waved your hands in front of your face. “Absolutely not. I haven’t seen you in - how long has it been?”

“Six years.”

“Six years!” You curled your feet in under you. “We’re not getting married.”

* * *

You ground your teeth as you entered the room beside Loki. He dragged his fingers up and down your spine, walking close enough to you that your sides grazed as you moved. His cloak caught around your back, bringing you closer to him with every step.

It was an opulent room, wroght with glittering metals and sparkling stones. A myriad of lifeforms infested the space, adding to the spectrum of colors overpowering the hall. Vibrant colors overwhelmed you, everything clashed and matched simultaneously.

You peeked at Loki beside you, strutting with his yellow-hued coat flapping behind him. With a shake of your head, you gave in the desire to admire his sense of control while hiding it under the guise of being madly in love with your fiance. The plan was so unrealistic, you weren’t sure the Grandmaster wouldn’t kill you on the spot or force you to fight Loki in the competition as reparation for wasting his time.

“Oh,” The Grandmaster clapped his hands over his mouth. “The happy couple. Reunited at last on my little planet. Of all places in the universe, you landed here.”

“Grandmaster!” Loki dropped his hold on you and splayed out his arms like wings, welcoming the Grandmaster into a friendly embrace. “You’re kindness knows no bounds.”

“Topaz,” The Grandmaster snapped at the woman beside him. “Didn’t I - what did I just say about this - just a few minutes ago. It’s starts with an ‘S’.”

“Stupid,” Topaz deadpanned, clutching the melt stick like it held her upright. A bulbous orb attached to the top, nearly a foot above her short frame. It buzzed with the sound of electricity and you looked away before your fascination singled you out.  

“No!” The Grandmaster spun on Topaz and slapped his cheek, voice cracking multiple octaves as he spoke. “ _Special_. I said special.”

Loki snaked his hand around your waist, pulling you against him. His fingers slipped around the fabric of your armor and he smirked when you looked to him, open mouthed at his blatant act of familiarity.

“Look at you,” The Grandmaster had abandoned Topaz and stood directly before you, like you’d blinked and he arrived it the millisecond your eyes were shut. “This is so fun, isn’t it?”

You laughed deep in your chest, shocked with the eccentricity of the Grandmaster. He’d always appeared cold and frankly, unstable. His ability to make normal sounding speech uncomfortable was astounding. And the decorations on his face brightened the cold look hiding behind his outward stare

“A bit unexpected,” You wrapped your hands around Loki’s middle, smiling at the Grandmaster like you shone as bright as a star. “But clearly you work miracles on Sakaar.”

“I like this creature!” The Grandmaster spun to ensure the rest of the group watched.

Loki’s grip tightened at the Grandmaster’s reference to you as creature, but you laughed and caught Loki’s eye in warning.

Though your stomach tumbled with nerves, you settled your face into calm enthusiasm, mimicking how you assumed you’d react if your long-lost fiancee had truly reappeared. Though fluffy smiles and awe weren’t your standard mode of operation, it was a show for the Grandmaster, just as the area. This was simply another form of battle.

A twelve armed beast offered your a drink and you pulled it carefully from the tray, examining its contents by swirling it around in front of your eyes. The Grandmaster’s face twisted as the glass obscured him in your vision.

“Drink it!” The Grandmaster commanded. “Join the party.”

You sniffed the drink and sipped lightly, wincing at the sting as it dripped down your throat. The only liquor you’d tasted in years were bits of alcohol stolen from the crowd after an arena run and it must have been diluted. This substance was pure fire in your mouth.

Loki took the drink from you, downing the rest himself with no change in expression. The beast from before silently pulled the glass from Loki, replacing it with a full drink.

“So are we getting married?” The Grandmaster revelled in the cheers of his group. “I’m getting bored.”

“Of course.” Loki handed the drink so something standing next to him. “And in exchange, she’s mine?”

“I’m not yo-” Loki wrapped an arm around your stomach and pulled you to him to clasp his hand over your mouth. The urge to bite Loki grew but instead you dropped down, surprising him as you slipped under his hold. Gasps rippled through the crowd and the recall the previous joviality of the room, you grabbed Loki’s cheeks and pulled him to you for a dramatic kiss. “I was wrong,” you said loud enough for the room to understand. “I am yours.”

Loki caught the mocking nature of your stare but the words themselves sounded sincere.

“I’m so used to the arena, my instincts kicked in when I should have just kissed you from the beginning,” You spun towards the Grandmaster, laying on the dramatics like your life depended on it, because it did. Loki’s favor with this man was possibly your only key to escape that had arisen in the past six years. “When do we start?”

Loki grabbed you again, pulling your back against his chest. His hands moved from your waist to your stomach and back again. He whispered in your ear, recapturing the previous mood.

“What a show you’ve given us - what’s your name again?” The Grandmaster clapped his hands and rubbed his palms up and down against each other, ignoring your attempt to answer. “Let’s start - now!”

“Of course,” Loki rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Do you want to marry this handsome thing?” The Grandmaster held out a palm to you. With a gentle touch, you placed your own hand on his.

“Absolutely,” You nearly recoiled at the clamminess of the Grandmaster’s hand. The wrinkles sunk into your skin like a parasite, sticking to you with sickening sweat.

“And you want to marry this average looking creature?” He held a hand to Loki who took it with no emotion.

“Yes,” Loki said, still holding you close to him with his free hand like he didn’t wish to let go.

The Grandmaster took yours and Loki’s hands and wrapped them together like a zipper in front of you. The smack of the hands meeting echoed through the hall.

“I guess you’re married now.” The Grandmaster waved you away. “I have the power to do that right? Ah - who cares. I do - I do now!”

The crowd roared, flooding you and Loki with offers of drinks and other illicit substances. Music roared to life and the dancing began.

“The obedience disc?” Loki circled the disc on your neck with a gentle finger. The reddened, puffy skin around the object was sensitive and you hissed.

“Oh right,” The Grandmaster pulled the controller from some hidden pocket in his robes and clicked the removal button. The disc fell from your neck and clanked on the floor. With a small gasp, you felt the soft skin free of its bind.

“Now go do married things and come back for the next competition,” The Grandmaster waved you both away and rushed to his instruments to play an out of key tune which was met with a screaming crowd.

“Come with me,” Loki whispered to you, barely audible over the howling group pounding their feet as they danced.

Weaving through the crowd, you hurried from the room. The hall outside was completely silent except for the guards turned statues lining every window, barring any means of escape.

“We’re not actually married, are we?” Your eyes grew big as you followed Loki, rushing down the hall, out of earshot of the guards.

“Of course not,” Loki grabbed your hand and pulled you with him, running faster. You stumbled as you jerked forward. “That sham of a ceremony was laughable at best.”

“Thank goodness,” You laughed in relief until Loki turned on you with a conflicted crease in his brow. “What?”

“You’re repulsed by the idea?” Loki frowned, rolling his shoulders back uncomfortably. It was suddenly colder than before. The hair on your arms tickled as they rose.

“That’s not what I said,” You shook your head and pushed Loki forward. “Take me to your room. We’ll talk there if it isn’t bugged.”

“We’ll have to whisper because it absolutely is,” Loki headed around a corner and you ran into his side with a thud. He’d stopped before a modest door.  

“Who would have thought I’d have more privacy than you?”

“I’d take the air of autonomy over an obedience disc and some semblance of privacy,” Loki pulled the door open, exposing a room nearly as wild as the Grandmaster’s hall from earlier. “I can think in peace. I have no reason to speak my plans aloud. Besides, I like it here.”

“You do?” You stepped inside, hearing Loki close the door behind you.

Greens and silvers and yellows decorated the room. It looked Asgardian in style with large sconces and weaving intricate designs. Clearly Loki had some minor say in the decoration of his room and he’d taken full advantage of that leniency.

“And now I like it even more,” Loki wrapped his arms around your middle and carried you kicking to the oversized bed. He tossed you down and stood over you. “Take your armor off, then we’ll talk.”

“We aren’t going to  _talk_  if I undress,” You rested up on your elbows, pulling your hair from its tie to let it hand free.  

“I’m aware,” Loki tossed his cloak away. It landed against a lamp, making it wobble before settling, taking the brightness of the light with it as it moved. “Now undress.”

Cocking your head, your chest tightened and stomach churned. The unsettling feeling had returned. Something wasn’t right. None of this was right.

“Loki,” You bit your lip in thought, tearing thin stripps of skin with it. Forgetting to pull away layers of clothes, you tugged at your collar. “Ever since I saw you in the box, I can’t break this feeling that something has gone terribly wrong. Like the realms are out of balance.”

“You worry too much,” Loki crawled on top of you, pushing you into the bed. “Absolutely nothing will go wrong. I won’t let it.”

“I certainly hope your right,” You whispered as he kissed down your neck. “I’m not sure I can handle much more.”

“There is no reason to worry, love,” Loki’s breath was warm against your ear. “I’m here and nothing will change that.”


End file.
